


Dark Rebellion II

by FallingThroughTheFloor



Series: Dark Rebellion [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Ahsoka Tano's No Good Very Bad Day, Dark Comedy, Dark Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dark Side Shenanigans, Early Rebel Alliance, Ever Get So Jealous That You Overthrow a Dictator?, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Maul Might Be Catching Feelings Much to His Utter Confusion, Mild Kink, Murder Husbands, Possessive Behavior, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, References to Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008), Star Wars: Rebels References, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) Spoilers, Tragedy/Comedy, cliffhanger ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 05:10:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20285944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingThroughTheFloor/pseuds/FallingThroughTheFloor
Summary: Ahsoka sank to her knees; she didn’t want to be any closer to what was left of Anakin, but her legs wouldn’t support her weight any longer.These were the facts: her Master fell to the Dark Side. His former Master disfigured him and then lied and told everyone that Anakin was dead. Darth Vader, who used to be Anakin, killed hundreds of Jedi and trained the Inquisitors to do so as well. Then Obi-Wan fell to the Dark Side himself.They faced off again and this time Obi-Wan killed him.----------------------------------------------[Five years post-RotS: Dark Side Obi-Wan and Maul decided to join the Rebellion—whether the Rebellion wanted them or not. Now, with Vader dead, they pick their next target: Emperor Palpatine, the last Sith Lord in the galaxy.]





	1. Chapter 1

It had been twelve hours since the Rebel fleet withdrew from orbit around Mustafar. Whatever confrontation that occurred on its surface was long over by now. 

Either Darth Vader survived, or Obi-Wan Kenobi and Maul survived.

Ahsoka wasn’t sure which outcome she preferred.

Vader was powerful and deadly: anonymous behind a mask and a title, the killer of hundreds of Jedi, and the Emperor’s Sith apprentice. As a Rebel and a former Jedi, Ahsoka should have been hoping for his death without any hesitation.

The problem was that she had personally witnessed very little of Vader’s destructive actions, and had an extensive and graphic familiarity with the horrors that her grand-Master and his former nemesis had wrought in the span of a single year.

It was as though Obi-Wan had died—it would have been easier if he had—and his corpse was doing its best to undo all of the good that he had done in his life. He and Maul (a partnership that still broke her heart) killed indiscriminately, left no survivors, occasionally attacked their own allies, destroyed nearly everything they touched, and felt no remorse as they did so.

A single ship had been spotted leaving Mustafar: not the one that Obi-Wan and Maul had taken to the surface twelve hours ago, but one of Vader’s personal shuttles.

The obvious assumption was that Vader had triumphed, but Ahsoka knew that she would never feel a moment’s peace until she knew for sure.

She landed not too far from Maul and Obi-Wan’s abandoned craft, then stepped off of her ship and into hell. That was what Mustafar reminded her of: a place where only fire and pain could survive, a place that devoured everything else, a place where the Light could not be found.

In the distance, a bombed-out fortress was obscured by clouds of smoke.

After walking in its direction for approximately half a kilometer, she saw a body on the ground.

Only one. Not two.

Even though Ahsoka’s mind was trying to concoct a scenario in which Vader killed one and captured the other, she knew that it was a lie. They had defeated Darth Vader and left.

She shouldn’t have come here: she promised Bail Organa that she would go on the run with Luke and Leia if their so-called “allies” survived their entrapment on Mustafar. For all she knew, Obi-Wan and Maul were already on their way to Alderaan or Tatooine.

But as long as she was here, she would answer the question that had haunted the galaxy for the last five years: who was Darth Vader?

He had to have been a Jedi, once—even though Maul was living proof that Palpatine could keep his apprentices hidden if he chose to—but Ahsoka tried not to speculate. Better to think that all the Jedi she once knew were dead than to think of them like that.

The way that she thought about Obi-Wan now.

Even at this distance, she could see that Vader’s mask had been removed. The skin of his face was pale—probably human, but hard to tell.

She felt her feet dragging the closer she got.

_ I don’t want to see this. _

She didn’t know who it was.

_ Yes, I do. I just didn’t _ _ want_ _ to know. _

She forced herself to take those final steps.

_ I knew all along, somehow. _

Nearly twelve hours ago, she felt a strange shift in the Force, like a ghastly sound finally fading into silence.

_ Of course I felt him die. _

Ahsoka looked down at the face of her dead Master.

His eyes were open, focused on nothing, and the same bloodshot gold that Obi-Wan’s were. His wounds didn’t appear to be fatal: the stump of his missing leg showed nothing but exposed wires, and the slashes to his chest and side had only damaged the suit he was encased in. A trail of dried blood could be seen just under his nose—the only clue to how he had been killed.

Obi-Wan did this. He murdered his own apprentice. Had he known who Vader was before he removed the mask? 

Ahsoka’s stomach dropped as she realized that she had never thought to wonder how Vader came to be in that suit.

Only one person could have defeated Anakin Skywalker in a duel that… thoroughly.

Obi-Wan had known all along.

Ahsoka sank to her knees; she didn’t want to be any closer to what was left of Anakin, but her legs wouldn’t support her weight any longer.

These were the facts: her Master fell to the Dark Side. His former Master disfigured him and then lied and told everyone that Anakin was dead. Darth Vader, who used to be Anakin, killed hundreds of Jedi and trained the Inquisitors to do so as well. Then Obi-Wan fell to the Dark Side himself.

_ Maybe he couldn’t live with himself after what happened to Anakin. _

_ After what he _ _ did_ _ to Anakin. _

They faced off again and this time Obi-Wan killed him.

_ Dooku, Obi-Wan, and now Anakin… was my entire lineage doomed to fall? _

Not Qui-Gon, she reassured herself, but she also knew that he hadn’t exactly been a favorite among the Jedi.

And Ahsoka herself never even made it past her apprenticeship.

There was a voice in her head, one that had been there for five years, one that more often than not sounded like Anakin:

_ This is all your fault, Ahsoka. If you had been a better Padawan, a more obedient one, no one would have believed the false accusations that you were responsible for the Temple bombing. If you had just done what you were told, you wouldn’t have had to run, you wouldn’t have felt betrayed by the Order, and you wouldn’t have left Anakin behind. _

Before: _ It’s all your fault that he’s dead. If you had been there, he wouldn’t have died. _

Now: _ It’s all your fault that he fell. If you had been there, he wouldn’t have fallen. _

_ Not only that, but if he hadn’t fallen, the Empire wouldn’t have happened, the Jedi wouldn’t have been destroyed, and Obi-Wan wouldn’t have fallen too. _

_ This is all _ _ your_ _ fault, Ahsoka. _

She was on the verge of sobbing when she saw something in Anakin’s hand.

A piece of flimsiplast.

A note. 

She picked it up and unfolded it.

There were no words, only a symbol: the crest of the Royal House of Organa.

* * *

“We are both going to smell like sulfur for days,” Maul grumbled from the corridor.

“There _ is _a refresher,” Obi-Wan pointed out, getting up from the pilot’s seat now that they had entered hyperspace.

“It doesn’t have a shower.”

Obi-Wan frowned for a moment in thought. “I suppose that Vader wouldn’t have needed one, would he? Although,” he couldn’t help musing, “I doubt he needed the other facilities either, and yet they’re still here.”

“This conversation is disgusting,” Maul complained.

“Use the sink if you’re so impatient to get clean.” Obi-Wan tried to walk around him, but Maul grabbed his arm.

“That only solves the problem for one of us,” he told Obi-Wan. “You still reek.”

“Didn’t you spend a decade on a literal planet of garbage?” Obi-Wan asked, leaning into his touch. It was difficult not to, especially after the adrenaline rush from their handiwork on Mustafar. Once that adrenaline wore off, he knew that the maddening boredom would return, but things like this delayed it. “This squeamishness is rather out of character, don’t you think?”

“Your constant sneering at uncivilized parts of the galaxy is apparently having an effect.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help smirking as he moved in closer, forcing Maul up against the wall of the corridor. “There are more straightforward ways to get me out of my clothes, you know.”

“I prefer to be the one to make a mess of you,” Maul growled. “When you show up already dirty it takes away the fun of it.”

“I think you’ll just have to endure the discomfort and hope that I can provide enough fun to make up for it.” He brushed the side of Maul’s face with a finger, tracing the red and black patterns on his skin.

The two of them were standing so close that he could feel Maul shiver. But Obi-Wan held back from getting any closer, letting his lips hover over his cheek, his jaw, and his mouth.

He enjoyed it: teasing Maul until he finally lost control, until he grabbed Obi-Wan like he was keeping him from being pulled out of an airlock, until he nearly forgot how to form words as he dug his nails into Obi-Wan’s skin, until his thoughts were a sandstorm, animated by nothing but pure, vicious need.

To be needed like this was intoxicating. 

It fascinated him: what lengths could Obi-Wan push this man to? What demands could he make of him? At what point would he go too far?

At last, Maul lunged forward, slamming Obi-Wan against the opposite wall with a snarl. The impact drove the breath from his lungs, which was a less-than-pleasant sensation, and also knocked his head against the panel behind him, which was even _ less _pleasant.

Obi-Wan couldn’t resist: he put a hand on Maul’s injured arm and squeezed.

His howl of surprise and pain brought back the memory of Vader’s lightsaber slicing into the muscle of Maul’s upper arm—and then the memory of how Obi-Wan was consumed by a fury he had never experienced before, one that drove every other thought out of his head as he renewed his assault on Vader. During those glorious moments, Obi-Wan was one with the Dark Side of the Force in a way he had never been with the Light, with that beautiful hatred guiding his every move until Vader’s defeat was inevitable, unavoidable, and inescapable.

Obi-Wan realized that he had stopped referring to Vader as Anakin at some point over the last few hours. He didn’t know why, but he supposed that it didn’t matter: either way, that man was dead. It wasn’t as if Vader’s opinion mattered anymore.

The Dark made things so simple.

Things like these: Obi-Wan had felt sad and now he wasn’t. He had been alone and now he had someone to keep him company. He had been bored and now he had something to amuse himself with.

And if any of those things changed, he could reach back into the Dark until he found something else to do.

Given what the galaxy had become in the last few years, why would anyone choose otherwise?

Maul gave another snarl and pinned Obi-Wan’s arms to his sides. “That was a low blow, Kenobi.”

He couldn’t help leaning in closer. “I’ve given you lower ones.”

Maul’s grip on him tightened. “I remember. This one still hurt.”

“Vader shouldn’t have done that,” Obi-Wan murmured into his ear, then gave it a little nip with his teeth. “He shouldn’t have hurt you… not while I was there.”

He pulled back a little so that he could look him in the eyes. That need was still there, still intoxicating. _ “I’m _ the only one allowed to hurt you,” Obi-Wan whispered. “No one else can touch you… and if they do, I will make sure that they die.”

That was what had surprised Obi-Wan on Mustafar: the jealous inferno from deep inside of him, his rage that Vader had _ dared _ to hurt the one person that kept him from dying of boredom, the one person who was even remotely interesting—but Maul was somehow even more than that now, because the word that kept coming to Obi-Wan’s mind more and more often was _ ‘Mine.’ _

By the time their lips met, they were both almost panting with desire, trembling against one another, their presences in the Force wrapping greedily around one another until their thoughts began to blur together.

As they kissed, Obi-Wan let himself enjoy that feeling: of proximity, of intimacy, of the obsession that brought them together and the mutual fascination that _ kept _ them together. 

It wasn’t love—Obi-Wan was fairly certain that he no longer had the capacity for it—but that storm of need and possessiveness was every bit as powerful.

“We should decide on a plan for when we land on Coruscant,” Obi-Wan said eventually, but made no attempt to move from his current position.

“We have time to kill before that,” Maul murmured. “Then we’ll figure out what else needs killing.”

* * *

“Why are you calling me first?” Bail asked, anxiety beginning to twist in the pit of his stomach as he stared at the projection of Fulcrum’s sigil from the comm unit in front of him. “Wouldn’t Commander Sato be a better choice?”

“Darth Vader is dead.”

His anxiety transformed into full-blown panic. If Obi-Wan and Maul survived, then the rest of them were as good as dead. Abandoning someone in the middle of a mission was usually a signal that the alliance was over. They would want revenge. 

This plan had been so _ stupid, _ Bail thought. They should have realized that immediately: Obi-Wan had been a match for Vader before, and would have an even better chance of defeating his former apprentice now that he had an ally—

_ (accomplice—partner—lover—co-conspirator) _

—so why did Bail and the others assume otherwise? It had been a vain hope.

_ (But without hope, what is the point of a rebellion?) _

They should have just let events proceed naturally, let the inevitable confrontation between the trio of Dark Side users unfold on its own…

But Bail thought back to Sato’s reports: the ensign with the broken arm, the bruises around the neck of a supply officer—the countless petty cruelties caused by a pair of bored sociopaths. If Bail and the others hadn’t acted, they would have been complicit in whatever incidents followed.

“Are you going to Tatooine or Alderaan first?” he asked. “We can keep Leia hidden here, at least until you have a chance to retrieve Luke.” Though probably not for much longer than that, if Obi-Wan decided that the chance to have a pair of five-year-old apprentices was worth slaughtering anyone who stood in the way.

No matter what, however, the time had come: Bail would have to let his daughter go.

He didn’t think it would be this soon. He thought he had more time. He never thought that things would get this bad.

_ (Leia, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop this. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.) _

“Aren’t you going to ask who he is?” Even with the vocal distortion, Fulcrum's voice was flat.

His heart sank even further at the realization: Ahsoka knew that Darth Vader was dead… and it was unlikely to be knowledge gained any other way than first-hand.

“I did not know that many Jedi,” Bail said, trying to keep his expression from giving anything away. “I doubt I would recognize the name.”

“You would recognize this one.”

That confirmed it: she knew.

“I’m not sure I want to know,” he said carefully.

A long silence followed, while Bail once again hoped that his face was not betraying him. “I am on my way to Alderaan,” she said at last. “We need to talk.”

Fulcrum ended the call before Bail had the chance to respond.

She was suspicious… but would it be so bad if she found out that he had known?

Bail suspected that it would, in fact, be that bad… and possibly even worse than he feared.

* * *

“How does it feel, knowing that your home is gone?” Maul asked. Rather than taking a seat in the cockpit, he decided to just stand behind the pilot’s seat and lean over Kenobi’s shoulder when he wanted to say something.

Occasionally, Maul wondered if there was some secret he was missing, because no matter how close he was to Kenobi, it never felt close enough. One final gulf, one last bridge to cross, but he didn't know what it was, much less how to overcome it.

It was extremely frustrating. Now that Vader was gone, things should have been simpler, but they weren’t.

Maul used to be at a loss for what to do… now, he was more at a loss for what he _ wanted. _

Of course, he wanted them both to survive this upcoming confrontation, but the question remained: once Sidious was dealt with, what happened next? What else did he want—what else _ could _ he want?

He didn’t know.

“The building is still there,” Kenobi replied with a shrug. “Although I expect it looks different inside now that it’s some kind of palace. Which, incidentally, might make things a little challenging: I may not be able to recognize the best route to take once we’re inside.”

“I doubt that Sidious would bother to make himself difficult to find.” Maul said, unable to keep from sneering. “He has everything he ever wanted, remember?”

“Regardless,” Kenobi said, still flying in the direction of what used to be the Jedi Temple, “we have to get close without being swarmed by guards. That was the plan we agreed on, remember?”

Maul snorted. “As though they would be a match for us.”

“Such confidence,” Kenobi replied, pretending to be astonished. “Is there some aspect of Sith training that teaches you all to be so smugly superior?”

“And this coming from a Jedi—”

_ “Former _ Jedi.”

Maul rolled his eyes. Kenobi’s insistence on that terminology was somehow both satisfying _ and _ deeply irritating. “Coming from a _ former _Jedi,” he amended, letting that irritation show in his voice, “it’s almost flattering.”

Rather than continuing their usual banter, Kenobi remained silent. A strange sensation of discomfort began to work its way through Maul’s chest: _ Did I say something wrong? _

No. That was an absurd line of thinking. What did it matter what Kenobi thought? If their partnership fell apart, they would simply kill one another, just like they promised months ago.

The Dark made things so simple. 

It was Maul himself that felt increasingly complicated.

“The last time I was here,” Kenobi said at last, “was after Vader had massacred everyone in the Temple. I even watched the holo recordings… and do you know the very first thing that went through my head while I did?”

“Probably something incredibly self-righteous,” Maul said.

“No.” Kenobi turned around in his seat to look at Maul. “I wished that you had killed me on Naboo.”

“I should have.” That was an especially satisfying thing to hear: at the worst moment of his life, Kenobi still thought about him. “You’ll get your wish someday, of course.”

“I know.” Kenobi turned back toward the viewscreen, as the Imperial Palace grew closer and closer. “Incidentally, if you plan on siding with your former Master before all this is over, I would prefer to be stabbed in the front rather than the back.”

Maul snarled and grabbed the back of Kenobi’s neck, digging his fingers into the skin hard enough to leave marks. “I would never return to him.”

Kenobi took a sharp breath, but his next words were relatively calm. “He’s seduced people far more obstinate than you to his side.”

“I would never be his slave again,” Maul insisted.

_ And I would never betray you like that. _

He wanted to do _ something, _to find some way of staking a claim on this infuriating man beyond just the marks Maul was leaving on his body—to demonstrate that, even at this moment, he was barely thinking about the person they were on their way to kill.

Maul had never needed anyone in his entire life, not even Sidious. He didn’t think he knew how.

And yet, here he was, somehow unable to relax his grip, as if Kenobi would vanish if Maul let go.

“Do you know,” Kenobi said thoughtfully, “I think we might not have to worry about evading the guards after all.” He reached up and slowly pried Maul’s unwilling fingers from the back of his neck. “Go see if there are any cuffs on board.”

Maul scoffed. “Restraining the guards instead of killing them? I thought you were past such weaknesses, Kenobi.”

Kenobi turned and grinned. “Oh, they’re not for the guards,” he said. “They’re for me.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ahsoka couldn’t explain why she was no longer worried about the possibility that the two Dark Siders were going to Alderaan. The note they left with Anakin on Mustafar should have thrown her into a panic, but it didn’t.

It was something in the Force, perhaps, but she didn’t think that the Organa crest was intended as a clue to their next destination. She was growing increasingly certain that it was something else.

It wasn’t until she was on Alderaan and face to face with Bail that she began to understand the source of her unease.

He was hiding something.

“Do you believe that they’re coming for Leia first?” he asked before she had even closer the door to the small room that he had designated for their meeting.

Ahsoka shook her head. “With…” She had to pause to take a deep breath before saying his name. “With Vader dead, I think their next target is Coruscant. They stole one of his shuttles, which they wouldn’t have done if they were returning to the Rebellion.”

Bail frowned. “They can’t possibly survive attacking the Emperor in his own stronghold. Even Yoda couldn’t manage it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s senseless… though I suppose I wouldn’t be _ that _bothered if they failed…” He lowered his hand and looked almost puzzled. “When did we get to the point where we started hoping for the Empire to win?”

“The Dark Side warps so many things,” Ahsoka said sadly. She had felt it for months now, ever since Obi-Wan and Maul joined the Rebellion; initially, she assumed that she was sensing the darkness of their own presences, but it had spread beyond that. The entire Rebellion was heading in a direction that it might never recover from: too callous, too bloodthirsty, too little hope and too much fear. They measured victories in body counts. Trust was eroding. Just an endless series of battles, sometimes just for the sake of battles.

When the Empire one day fell, would the thing that replaced it be any better?

“There’s nothing we can do about them now,” she said. “Not at the moment, at least. I came to see you because of this.” She held out the piece of flimsi. “They left it on Anakin’s corpse.”

It took Bail too long to react to Anakin’s name. Something shattered in Ahsoka’s chest. “You knew,” she whispered. “You knew it was him, didn’t you?”

Bail didn’t respond. It was confirmation enough.

“You let me believe that he was dead. That he was—” The shattered feeling began to grow red-hot. “That was why you always called the twins Padmé’s children, why you never mentioned him at _ all. _ You knew!”

“It wasn’t my place to say anything,” he said quietly. He didn’t look at her.

“Then whose was it? Obi-Wan’s? Who else knew about this?”

She remembered asking Obi-Wan: _ “What would Anakin think if he saw you like this?” _

No wonder he laughed at her. Anakin had fallen even further than his former Master.

“No one else that I know of, except for Yoda,” Bail said. “Though Maul probably knows now as well.” 

He hadn’t moved a muscle, nor did he meet her eyes, and Ahsoka had a sudden urge to grab him by the neck and _ force _ him to look at her.

The Dark Side had warped _ too _ many things: keeping her anger under control was harder than it used to be. 

Of course, she never had to deal with the revelation that her Master was one of the most evil people in the galaxy before. There was no meditation technique in existence that would have helped with that.

“What happened to him?” Ahsoka asked, doing her best to keep from yelling. She felt like she had been stabbed in the gut. 

“I’m not sure,” Bail admitted. “Palpatine offered him _ something _to turn him against the Jedi, but I don’t know what it was. At the time, Obi-Wan thought that it may have had something to do with Padmé. If he ever found out more, he never told me.”

“That suit…” She knew that the answer to this question would be horrible, but she had to know: “Did Obi-Wan do that to him?”

After a moment, Bail nodded. “Obi-Wan and Padmé followed him to Mustafar—I assume she thought she could get through to him. When Obi-Wan arrived at Polis Massa a few hours later, she was injured and going into labor.”

“So I guess she didn’t get through to him.” Ahsoka barely recognized the bitterness in her own voice.

“No,” Bail said, sounding nearly as bitter, “I don’t think she did either. Obi-Wan was reluctant to provide details, but he did say that Vader had been defeated. At the time, I think Obi-Wan assumed that he was dead, which should give you an idea of the extent of Vader’s injuries—”

_ “Anakin’s _injuries,” she snapped.

“I don’t think that _ Anakin _ would have slaughtered an entire Temple of children,” he snapped back, finally looking at her. “Whatever part of him _ was _ Anakin, that part died when he turned to the Dark Side.”

“And yet you’re still calling _ that man _Obi-Wan,” she retorted.

He glared. “Believe me, Ahsoka, if there was something else I could call him, I would.”

“Were you ever going to tell me? Were you ever going to tell _ Leia? _ Or were you hoping that Anakin would die before you had to?” Something else slammed into her like a shuttle landing on her chest. “You knew that if you told me, I might not be able to kill him if it came to it.”

“I know it feels otherwise, but there wasn’t some massive conspiracy to hide this from you, Ahsoka!” Bail was on the verge of shouting.

“What do you think would have happened if I had faced him before he died?” Ahsoka demanded. “Do you really think he wouldn’t have said something the _ instant _ he saw me?” She very nearly added that Anakin had never been able to keep a single thought in his head without also saying it out loud, but she knew that Bail would just begin arguing again that he wasn’t Anakin anymore.

“Ahsoka, I’m going to ask you a question, one that I hope you will answer honestly.” They were both doing their best to calm down, but Ahsoka could feel the cracks in that composure. “What good would it have done if you knew?”

“I spent all these years believing that he was dead,” she said. “If I had known the truth earlier, maybe there was something I could have done.”

Bail didn’t have to say anything: the look of pity on his face was more than enough.

_ Could I have gotten through to Anakin? _she wondered.

No: if Padmé couldn’t do it, Ahsoka didn’t think anyone could.

_ Was there anyone who could have gotten through to Obi-Wan? _

Not anymore, she decided. Anakin was already lost and Maul had killed anyone else who might have helped.

That red-hot sensation of shattering returned. Neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin had fallen alone. They each had help.

It was just a repetition of the vain hope they had all held when the Rebel forces withdrew from Mustafar, but she hoped all the same: that either Palpatine or Maul died in the upcoming confrontation on Coruscant.

If the Force was really with her, maybe both of them would.

* * *

Maul was obviously enjoying the opportunity to haul Obi-Wan around by the stun cuffs that were currently binding his arms behind his back.

He had also obviously enjoyed roughing Obi-Wan up a bit, to help sell the claim that Maul had captured him.

“When we’re done here,” Obi-Wan murmured as they passed through a section of the Imperial Palace with guards placed far enough apart that they couldn’t overhear, “I look forward to paying you back for all of this.” He was shoved forward, and the fact that Maul was still holding him by the cuffs was the only reason why Obi-Wan didn’t fall face-first onto the floor. “In _ excruciating _detail,” he added.

The loss of control was admittedly frustrating: Obi-Wan had spent the previous year doing whatever he felt like whenever he felt like doing it, and feeling vulnerable again was more disorienting than he expected.

On the other hand, of all the people to be vulnerable with… How far would Maul go, if given total control?

Obi-Wan looked forward to finding out.

“We could have cut all these guards to pieces by now,” Maul hissed in his ear, “but you just _ had _to pick today to try out a bondage fetish.”

“It’s a better plan,” Obi-Wan protested. “And besides, we can always get them on our way out.”

“He’s not going to believe you’re still a Jedi,” Maul pointed out, giving Obi-Wan another violent push. “Not unless you’ve found some way to keep your eyes hidden.”

There were times when Obi-Wan forgot that his eyes had ever been any color but that of the inferno that burned inside of him. 

Sometimes he could barely remember being anything other than what he was now.

He supposed it was better that way.

The Dark made things so simple.

“By the time he gets close enough to look me in the eyes, we’ll be close enough to strike.” As he was pulled upright again, Obi-Wan let his body continue in that direction, falling backwards until he was resting on Maul’s chest. 

“At this rate, we’ll never get there,” Maul grumbled, but Obi-Wan could hear the slight breathlessness behind those words.

“Take the opportunity to savor it,” Obi-Wan murmured. “This might be our last chance.”

Maul snorted derisively. “Even with all your efforts to complicate the plan, this is going to be easy.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to tease Maul about his arrogance yet again, but he choked on the words when he sensed the target of their intended assassination.

Darth Sidious felt like an absence in the Force itself. As they drew closer to what one of the guards had referred to as a ‘throne room,’ Obi-Wan understood for the first time the true extent of what they were about to face.

He knew that Yoda wasn’t able to defeat him, but that knowledge still hadn’t prepared Obi-Wan for the sheer _ magnitude _ of the Sith Lord’s power. Darkness without end, honed by decades of study and experience, pulling in everything around it until all resistance vanished.

They wouldn’t be able to kill Palpatine, Obi-Wan realized as a cold clarity settled on him. Especially not Maul, who had never even come close to overpowering his former Master. The Emperor would know immediately that it was a trap, and would act accordingly—by killing them instantly. They didn’t have a chance.

The plan wasn’t going to work.

He rarely had a reason to hide his thoughts from Maul, but now he needed to use whatever control he could spare to do just that.

Obi-Wan had to come up with another idea, one that would ensure his survival.

The person he used to be would have been horrified by what he was considering, but it was the only way.

The Dark made that simple as well.

“When we get there,” he told Maul, “wait for my signal before you attack.”

Hopefully that would provide enough time for Obi-Wan to put his new plan into motion.

* * *

“This place is too hot,” Leia complained, wiping the sweat off her forehead and leaving yet another smudge on her face.

“We’ll be back on the ship soon,” Ahsoka assured her. It had been several years since she was last on Tatooine, and finding the exact location of a single moisture farm was more challenging than she expected.

_ I came here with Anakin, back then. He never really talked about his old life here. _

“Why doesn’t he just come _ here _instead?” Leia was still at the stage where the trip seemed like an adventure, with her brother as the finale of an interesting quest.

“He doesn’t know we're here yet.”

Leia's eyes lit up with excitement. “It’s a surprise?”

“In a way.” Eventually, Ahsoka would need to explain what was going on, but she wanted the twins to be together when she did.

_ Your real parents are dead. Your father murdered your mother. The man who was supposed to keep you safe killed your father and is probably going to come looking for you any day now. _

_ There is no one you can trust. _

_ We ruined the galaxy that you were supposed to inherit. _

Ahsoka took a deep breath. She seemed to have only three settings these days: barely-holding-it-together, utter despair…

And absolute _ fury. _

The last one hit her in waves: moments when she could hardly see or speak, only burn with anger that erased every thought in her head.

Then it would vanish as quickly as it arrived.

She finally managed to find a landspeeder and a general direction towards the Lars homestead. The Anzati who rented her the speeder gave her a greasy leer as his eyes traveled from her chest down towards her feet.

“Five hundred,” he said.

“Two hundred,” she countered. “I’ll bring it back in a few hours.”

“At night?” he asked. “There’s Raiders out there, you know. They’ll pick you and the little one apart.” He grinned. “But there’s room here. Stay the night—”

“No thank you,” she cut him off, then repeated her previous offer. “Two hundred credits.”

“Not nearly enough,” he scoffed, but then his voice grew sly. “Unless you want to make some other kind of deal.” He stood far too close—the office they were in was too small to have any extra room to maneuver. “I’m sure the little one could wait a few minutes—” His next words were cut off as he reached for his throat.

The wave of fury was back—and this time, there was something it could _ do _.

As though from a distance, she could hear the Anzati coughing in wheezing gasps as he tried to breathe through a throat that was almost completely closed off by the invisible pressure on his neck.

"Two fifty," she hissed, tossed the credits to the ground, and stormed out of the tiny office to where Leia was waiting outside.

The anger faded away as they pulled away from the garage in the speeder. She unclenched the fist that she hadn’t realized she had made.

That was foolish: he would remember her now, maybe even alert the Imperial garrison about being attacked or robbed by a Force-user—

She heard Anakin’s voice in her head as usual: _ That was the Dark Side, Ahsoka. _

It was a slip-up, she told herself. Just a mistake. She would know better next time. She would have more control.

_ What if you’re falling just like everyone else in your lineage? What if this was how it started for Anakin? _

_ What makes you think that the twins would be safe around you? _

“Are you okay?” Leia asked. Ahsoka shouldn’t have been surprised: her anger was probably like a cloud in the Force.

“I’m alright,” she lied. She did her best to smile. “It’s just too hot here. Can you keep an eye out for me and tell me if you see any buildings in the distance?”

“Okay!” She shielded her eyes with her hand and squinted out at the dunes. 

Bail had done his best to hold himself together when he said goodbye to the girl he had raised as his own daughter. He succeeded so well, in fact, that Leia didn’t seem to realize that anything was wrong.

_ Maybe this was how it happened when Bail decided not to tell me about Anakin. Just an omission of the facts so that a scared little girl wouldn't fall apart. _

Another rush of anger overwhelmed her.

_ How dare they… _

And then it was gone, leaving her shaken, and in its absence was a growing feeling of despair.

She still had the piece of flimsi, the one that she found on Anakin’s corpse, tucked away in the sleeve of her cloak.

Obi-Wan knew, somehow, that she would be the one who found Anakin first. He knew that she would recognize the symbol. He knew that she would go directly to Alderaan.

He knew that she would realize that Bail had lied to her.

_ He knew that I would fall apart. That I wouldn’t be able to focus. That I would be too distracted to keep myself hidden. _

Her anger had drawn unnecessary attention to herself, which meant that she had put Luke and Leia in peril as well.

_ They can’t stay with me. Not now. _

_ I had _ _ one task__… and I can’t do it. _

She had a backup plan, at least: one that she had considered for awhile, just in case they needed to hide rather than go on the run. She could take them there. The Ryloth Resistance wasn’t officially a part of the Rebellion, but Ahsoka had been in regular contact with them over the years.

“I see something!” Leia cried, pointing ahead of them at a low stone structure in the distance. “Go that way,” she ordered.

“Are you sure that’s the place?” Ahoska asked, unsure of whether she was teasing the girl or not. Of course she would be able to sense her twin through the Force. 

“Of course—that’s where he’s hiding.”

“Hiding?” What if she had been wrong about the note Obi-Wan had left? What if he sent her to Alderaan to keep her away long enough for him to steal Luke?

But no, there he was: five years old, almost six, blond hair and blue eyes and with a few smudges on his face that matched his sister’s—he was there, unharmed and unconcerned, watching the two newcomers drive up to his home.

Leia was out of the speeder the moment it stopped (and not a second before, much to Ahsoka’s relief) and made a dash for him. “Got you!” she cried.

Luke looked at the girl with a mixture of interest and confusion. “Got me how?” he asked. 

Ahsoka caught up with them and was about to introduce them when she heard a new voice and saw a man in sand-colored clothes point a blaster at her.

“Who are you?”

Ahsoka raised her arms, demonstrating that she was unarmed. “Five years ago, a Jedi brought Luke here and asked you to watch over him.”

The blaster didn’t move. “And?”

“Luke’s not safe here anymore. The man who brought him to you betrayed us. I’m here to… to rescue him before that man comes back.”

“What man?” Leia asked. She looked surprisingly unconcerned by the fact that someone was pointing a weapon at Ahsoka.

“How do I know that you aren’t with the Empire?” the man demanded.

Ahsoka couldn’t help looking skeptical. “How many Imperials do you think look like _ me?” _ She gestured at her montrals. “Kind of hard to fit these into a stormtrooper helmet.”

He finally lowered the blaster. “Owen Lars,” he said in what she assumed was an introduction.

“Ahsoka Tano,” she replied, returning her arms to her side. 

“I thought Kenobi was still hiding out in the Wastes.” Behind him, Ahsoka could see a woman around Owen’s age, clipping a blaster of her own to her belt.

“He was,” Ahsoka said. “He left about a year ago… but it’s possible that he’ll come back here, looking for Luke.”

“Don’t take him,” the woman said. “Please. We can keep him safe, we’ve done it this long—”

“But not against someone with one of these.” Ahsoka drew one of her sabers and ignited it. Luke and Leia looked fascinated, but the adults flinched. 

“Did you know his father?” Owen asked. 

_ I thought I did. _

“I was his apprentice,” she said, unsure if she was speaking loudly enough to be heard. “A long time ago.”

The woman’s eyes grew cold. “He brought one of those here with him. There’s a Raiders settlement that isn’t there anymore.”

“When?” Ahsoka couldn’t keep the question to herself.

“Ten years ago,” Owen said. “Maybe a little less… it was around when Beru and I got married—”

“Eight years.” Beru took her husband’s hand in hers. “They kidnapped his mother right before he got here and he went looking.”

“He was too late, though.” Owen interjected.

“We heard him telling the girl he was with that he killed everyone in the settlement. It’s open war between us now, worse than it was before.”

Ahsoka did the math: it must have been right before the war started.

She didn’t know what Anakin had done, but whatever it was… it wasn’t good.

_ Was he falling, even back then? _

“So tell me,” Beru said, her eyes still cold, “how will one of those things keep our boy safe?”

“How will _ you?” _ Ahsoka asked, realizing as she spoke that it didn’t matter whether or not they agreed to let Luke go with her: she was going to take him regardless.

Beru and Owen appeared to come to the same conclusion only a moment later. “Can we have just one more night together?” Beru asked, looking down at the sand under her feet. “Just one?”

Ahsoka hesitated. She glanced at Luke, who had watched the entire conversation in silence while Leia occasionally whispered in his ear.

“One night,” she agreed, then turned off her lightsaber and returned it to her belt.

There was an uneasy silence, which was eventually broken by Leia dragging her brother towards the door of his home.

“Come on,” Leia said to Luke. “You’ve gotta pack.”

They were already holding hands, Ahsoka realized.

Whatever they ended up, at least they wouldn’t be alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Nothing in the last five years had convinced Maul that the Empire was full of anything but complete idiots, and today was no exception: he dragged Kenobi through the entire palace without anyone questioning him. In a few cases, they gave him _ directions. _

_ It’s a wonder they’ve lasted this long. _

His former Master’s presence was like a heavy cloak pressing down on him: pervasive, disorienting, and exhausting.

Maul should have been more nervous to confront him, but he felt more impatient than anything else. He comforted himself with the knowledge that this time would be different from all the others: he and Kenobi would make quick work of Sidious and then it would be over.

_ And then what? _

He resolved to think about that part later.

As they entered the throne room, passing between the rows of ceremonial guards wearing red, he felt Kenobi go limp, as though his legs were struggling to support his weight.

_ Clever. He already looks like hell, now he’s acting the part. _

Even if it made dragging him towards Sidious even more arduous than it already was.

Despite the fact that he no longer had to conceal his true nature, Sidious apparently still enjoyed lurking in the dark. The room was mostly in shadow, and his horrible wrinkled features were hidden under the hood of his cloak.

_ Control over the entire galaxy and he settles for this dismal place. A throne in an empty room. _

He flung Kenobi down at Sidious’ feet. “My master,” Maul said, hating the sound of those words as he knelt before him.

_ This will be the last time. _

It was obvious, but he said it anyway: “I have brought you the Jedi who killed Darth Vader.”

“Well done,” Sidious said, barely paying attention to Maul. 

_ Good. He’ll never see our attack coming. _

“Obi-Wan Kenobi… you do seem to have a knack for cutting apart my apprentices, don’t you?” Sidious stood and slowly approached them.

Kenobi was still face down on the floor, unable to even sit up, not with his hands bound behind his back like that. In spite of himself, Maul’s thoughts briefly strayed to what it might be like to have him in that position later—without as many articles of clothing on… 

“Perhaps you should raise your standards a little more,” Kenobi said lightly, though Maul noticed the way his words slurred together. 

Sidious sneered. “Perhaps I should.” His gaze briefly flicked in Maul’s direction. “Although this one finally managed to do something right for once.”

Even though Maul was here to kill him, even though he vowed never to be his slave again, he still burned with the humiliation of his rejection. Some part of him, despite every misery that the old man had inflicted, still wanted to please him.

_ The moment Kenobi gives the signal… I am going to enjoy every second of my revenge. _

Sidious waved a hand lazily, and Kenobi was lifted up with the Force, now kneeling with his feet tucked under him. He let his head droop, keeping his eyes hidden.

“What will you do with him, Master?” Maul asked.

“I assume that you didn’t have the presence of mind to interrogate him,” Sidious said disdainfully. “If there are any Jedi still in hiding, he would know where to find them.” He took a step closer to Kenobi. “Wouldn’t you?”

“The Jedi are gone,” Kenobi said, still sounding dazed. “There are none left to find.”

“As much as I would like to believe that, I know you are lying.” He grabbed Kenobi’s chin and forced him to look up at him. “If you survived, surely others did as well.”

Kenobi opened his eyes, finally showing Sidious that glorious inferno.

“I survived,” he said, “but I am not a Jedi anymore.”

Maul waited for the signal, at which point he would unlock the cuffs and they would draw their lightsabers and attack. In the past, the signal was a nudge through the Force: one mind brushing against the other, whispering _ ‘now’ _ into his thoughts.

It would be just like Kenobi to wait until he could have a dramatic reveal.

But there was still only silence. No signal.

What was Kenobi waiting for?

Whatever surprise Sidious felt was quickly overridden by a smug glee. “The great Jedi Master… now a servant of the Dark. How wonderful.”

Maul noticed that Kenobi’s eyes _ (that beautiful gold) _were losing their focus. He looked up at Sidious as though he was struggling to stay awake… as though he was in a trance…

_ ‘He’s seduced people far more obstinate than you to his side,’ _ Kenobi had said back on the ship.

Sidious’ fingers were still under Kenobi’s chin.

Something in the center of Maul’s chest trembled.

“You have shown yourself to be more than capable,” Sidious said. “I assume that was you behind all of those attacks on my Inquisitors?”

“Yes,” Kenobi said. His breathing was slowing, growing heavier, and his eyelids were beginning to lower.

“Imagine what you could do if you were given direction… purpose…” Sidious smiled and Maul saw the glint of hunger in his former Master’s eyes. “…instruction.”

There was still no signal from Kenobi. The trembling in Maul’s chest spread to the rest of his body until it felt like an earthquake under his skin.

What was Kenobi doing? Why was he taking so long? Sidious was distracted, he would be caught off guard and they would overpower him easily.

“Is that why you let yourself be captured?” Sidious asked, moving his fingers until they were clutching Kenobi by the hair. “So that you would be brought to me?”

“Yes, Master,” Kenobi whispered. His jaw had gone completely slack.

A blood-red cloud began to creep into the edges of Maul’s vision. The way Kenobi had said that word… as though it was the word he had been waiting to say all along… 

_ No. _

Whatever Sidious had done to him, whatever he was _ doing _ to him… he now had Kenobi completely under his influence. Under his _ control— _

There would be no signal.

_ No. _

“Master,” Maul growled, trying to divert his attention, trying to disrupt this horror, trying to break the spell—

Sidious didn’t even bother to look at him. “Leave us,” he said, staring down at the man on his knees before him.

Kenobi’s eyes were closed now, his body perfectly lax. He slowly ran his tongue over his lower lip.

_ No! _

Red filled Maul’s vision and he flung himself at Sidious with a wordless scream.

A wave of force slammed into Maul’s chest and he was thrown across the throne room. He barely registered the impact. There was nothing in his mind but that scream, the result of every thought wiped away by the blood-red inferno that was the only thing he could see now.

A half dozen guards attacked but he moved through them as though they were blades of grass, using the Force to snap their necks or toss them around like broken droids without even looking at them.

Blue lightning engulfed him but he barely noticed. He was past the point of feeling pain. All he could feel was the unfathomable rage at the thought of losing the person that had been the center of Maul’s life for eighteen years—the thought of losing him to this monstrous old man—

_ He’s mine, he’s mine, if anyone even touches him they will die, no one can take him away from me, he’s mine, I’ll kill him before I let that happen, he’s mine, he’s _ _ mine__— _

He didn’t even draw his lightsaber; he tackled his former Master to the floor and proceeded to tear him apart with his bare hands. 

Maul was nothing _ but _ rage now. 

He wasn’t sure when Sidious died, but it was likely long before Maul was done.

He leapt at Kenobi next, grabbing him by the neck and holding him in place as he sank his teeth into the man’s pale skin again and again, tearing open the collar of Kenobi’s shirt to expose his chest, leaving scratch marks everywhere his fingers could reach, growling a single word over and over again: _'__mine, mine, mine—’ _

The blinding red in his vision began to recede when he heard a surprising noise: a low chuckle.

“My, my,” Kenobi said, obviously amused, “that went even better than I expected.”

“You did that… on purpose?” He should have known, he should have _ known _ that Kenobi was lying—and of course Kenobi had to be convincing, Sidious wasn’t an idiot—but even knowing all of that, Maul was still heaving with fury. “Why? Why not just attack him like we planned?”

Another quiet laugh; pressed this close, Maul felt it through his skin more than he heard it in his ears. “Your smug superiority… overconfidence is the weakness of all Sith. It keeps you from fully accessing the Dark Side. You never would have defeated him unless you were utterly consumed by your rage… so I did what I could to enrage you.”

“I could have torn your throat out, you know,” Maul hissed. He wasn’t sure he was _ able _ to speak any louder than that—he could feel that rage slowly bleeding out of him. He wanted to move, wanted to recoil and glare at Kenobi, but all he seemed able to do was stay where he was, letting his head rest on Kenobi’s shoulder while Maul shuddered against him.

“I was willing to take that risk in the interest of driving you mad.” Kenobi gave a satisfied sigh. “It turned out to be surprisingly simple: all I had to do was make you believe that he was taking me away from you.”

For a brief moment, Maul shuddered even more violently as he realized, for the first time, that Kenobi _ knew._

_ He knows how badly I need him, how weak it makes me… _

“It wasn’t until Mustafar, not until Vader hurt you, that I realized it,” Kenobi continued. “Vader was hateful, bitter, and angry… but I was _ furious. _ I had never touched the Dark Side that way before. I went further than I had ever gone… and I _ triumphed.” _ His voice softened. “And I knew you would too.” 

_ He used my weakness to make me stronger. _

_ Why would I ever want to kill this man? _

Maul had never thanked anyone in his entire life. He didn’t think he knew how.

And yet, it turned out to be as easy as exhaling: “Thank you.”

_ How could I possibly destroy what I need so desperately? _

“If you wanted to _ show _your gratitude, you might start by removing these cuffs,” Kenobi suggested.

Maul still felt heavy, boneless, and exhausted, but he managed to sit up under his own power, reach behind Kenobi, and trigger the release mechanism.

“More guards are likely on their way,” Kenobi stood slowly, stretching muscles that were stiff from being bound in one position for so long. “Can you walk?”

Maul took the proffered hand and got to his feet. “Something in my left leg seems to have shorted out… but it can wait.”

He noticed Kenobi looking with interest at the hand still holding his—covered in Sidious’ blood. “What did you think of the decor on the way here?” Kenobi asked, feigning a casual tone.

Maul grinned as he caught his meaning. “Not enough red.”

Kenobi returned the smile, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Let’s remedy that, shall we?”

Maul still couldn't bring himself to let go of his hand. “What if I had just stood there and let you continue to debase yourself?”

“I suppose that becoming a Sith apprentice would have been interesting as well,” Kenobi admitted. He cradled Maul’s cheek in his free hand. “But I vastly prefer this outcome.”

They kissed and Maul realized that whatever remaining distance had been between them before was now gone.

“He’ll never hurt you again,” Kenobi murmured. “You’re free.”

“Am I?” Maul asked. “Or has he just been replaced by a new master?”

He didn’t know if that was what he desired or what he feared. Perhaps both.

“Is that even possible?” Kenobi asked, still stroking Maul’s cheek. “Neither of us are capable of being controlled… not anymore. No Jedi Order, no Sith Lords… just us.” 

“And several hundred useless Imperials who no longer have an Emperor to guard.” Ones that were almost certainly on their way.

“Once we’re done with them, there will be far fewer useless ones.”

“How considerate of us, to increase the Empire’s efficiency like that,” Maul remarked drily.

“If only they knew…” Kenobi sighed. “They wouldn’t be trying so hard to kill us, I suppose.” He pulled his saber out from where he had hidden it under his now-ruined shirt; as he did, Maul noticed the still-visible bite marks on Kenobi’s chest and the bruises on his neck. It was a rather… _ satisfying _sight.

“Is this the point where I brag that we can destroy all of them with ease and you scold me for my hubris?” Maul asked, drawing his own lightsaber.

“It isn’t hubris if it's true,” Kenobi said with a smile. “I’m the only one allowed to hurt you, remember?” He ignited his saber, filling the dim room with a blue glow. “They wouldn't stand a chance.”

Beneath Kenobi’s words, Maul could hear a beautiful hunger… a hunger for _ him._

_ How could I possibly let him die, even by my own hand? _

He would still do it, someday. They had promised one another that they would. But not yet.

There was time.

There was plenty of time.

* * *

By the time they arrived on Ryloth, the news had spread throughout the galaxy: the Emperor was dead and his Empire was in chaos.

Ahsoka might have been one of the only Rebels who wished that it had happened differently.

Cham Syndulla met her when she landed, accompanied by a teenaged Twi’lek woman with light green skin.

“You look hungry,” the girl said to the twins. “Would you like to get something to eat with me?”

Both Luke and Leia gave Ahsoka a worried look, but she nodded at them and tried to look reassuring as they followed their new acquaintance towards the area where dozens of grills were preparing food for the crowds that had gathered to celebrate the Emperor’s demise. 

Sitting with Ahsoka away from the others, Cham’s expression was less than jubilant. “His death makes a difference, but the Empire remains,” he said. “Ryloth is not free yet.”

He was still willing to take the twins and hide them; the resistance on Ryloth had more than a few non-Twi’leks in it, so they wouldn’t stand out too much.

It was also an easy place to overlook. Obi-Wan and Maul were unlikely to come here.

“That was my daughter,” Cham said, nodding towards where she was sitting with Luke and Leia, apparently introducing them to Twi’lek cuisine. “Hera is nearly grown, and already a capable protector. She can watch over them and keep them hidden.” He looked at Ahsoka closely. “What makes them so important? Are they Jedi children?”

“Yes,” Ahsoka said quietly. She almost told him more, that they were Anakin’s children, but she couldn’t bring herself to say his name. Besides, it wasn’t as though that knowledge would make a difference.

“We can handle the Inquisitors if they come here,” he said. “There aren’t many left as it is.”

However, there was other information that he _ did _need to know: “It isn’t the Inquisitors that you need to worry about. Someone else may come looking for them.” She pulled out a tiny holoprojector and turned it on. “Someone far more dangerous.”

The man that it displayed was so different from his current self that Ahsoka could almost convince herself that they were separate people. “This is Obi-Wan Kenobi,” she said, finding it nearly as difficult to speak his name as it would have been to speak Anakin’s.

Cham frowned in confusion. “The Jedi General? I thought he was dead with the others.”

“He's alive,” Ahsoka said, “and he will be looking for the twins. You need to keep him away from them at all costs. If you ever see him, either run or kill him on sight.” She turned off the display. “I would recommend running.”

“You’re that afraid of a fellow Jedi?”

“He is not a Jedi anymore.” Ahsoka’s hand trembled as she put the display back into her cloak. “There will probably be someone else with him as well: a Zabrak with red and black markings. He’s every bit as dangerous.”

“If they are so _ dangerous,” _ Cham asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “why hasn’t anyone heard about them?”

“You did.” Ahsoka gestured at the crowds gathered in celebration. “That was them.”

* * *

“That was rather fun,” Obi-Wan said, settling into a chair in the ship’s passenger area. “I thought that stealing a new ship would have been more of a challenge, though.”

“I think some of the hangar security guards reconsidered their duties once they saw the mess we had made in the hall.” Maul was still wandering around the ship, unable to sit still.

“I can hear you limping, you know,” Obi-Wan called after him.

“I told you before that something in my left leg shorted out when Sidious hit me with all of that lightning.”

“I _ know, _which is why I mentioned it. Let me see if I can find a toolkit somewhere.” Obi-Wan was admittedly exhausted, possibly for the first time in months, which made the act of standing up a little unpleasant.

After a few minutes, though, they were both seated again, Maul in a chair and Obi-Wan on the floor at his feet as he worked on repairing the damage to Maul’s mechanical legs.

“If you keep fidgeting,” he told Maul sternly, “I will cut the entire leg off—”

“Again.”

“—again, repair it in the other room, and _ then _find a way to reattach it.”

“You never struck me as someone who would know how to repair _ anything,” _ Maul muttered.

“I had plenty of practice reassembling the many items that Anakin tried to _ ‘fix’ _over the years.” He gave Maul a sly look. “But I suppose you have a point: my talents do tend more towards destroying things.”

“Limbs, machinery, empires…” Maul pretended to count them on his fingers.

“It isn’t destroyed yet,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “All we did was throw a spanner into the works.” He found the spot where Palpatine’s Force-generated lightning caused a pair of circuits in Maul’s leg to melt into little more than slag. It wouldn’t be a permanent fix, but he would be able to jury-rig something until they had a chance to do it properly.

“It will be interesting to see what the Rebellion does with this opportunity,” Obi-Wan said thoughtfully. The two of them had put so much effort into demonstrating how powerful the Rebellion could be if its leaders ever stopped being so squeamish, it would be a shame if they wasted it. The moment that Sato’s fleet withdrew and abandoned them on Mustafar… Obi-Wan was rather proud of them for that. If the Rebels were willing to do that to their own allies, what else could they accomplish?

He looked forward to finding out.

“Are we rejoining them?” Maul asked; his tone implied that he wouldn’t have minded either way.

_ As long as we are together… _

Something inside Obi-Wan twitched—something that he couldn’t identify, but which sent a jolt through him.

“Not yet,” he replied, trying to keep his breathing even. “First, we have some potential apprentices to track down.”

Maul rolled his eyes. “You’re still committed to doing that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I should have taken them long ago, really. It would have been better that way.”

“It would have saved you the trouble of lurking in the desert, at least,” Maul said with a grimace.

“But if I hadn’t done _ that, _” Obi-Wan pointed out, “who knows when we would have met again?”

“You’re being sentimental again. It’s annoying.”

“Think about it: if you hadn’t found me alone on Tatooine when you did, none of this would have happened.”

He expected to receive another look of disdain in reply, but instead Maul looked… anxious?

Obi-Wan had manipulated Maul’s insecurities perfectly when they confronted Palpatine… but their victory hadn’t made those insecurities go away when it was all over.

It twitched again: that thing inside of him without a name.

“Just because things are changing doesn’t mean that you’re losing me, you know.” His voice sounded oddly hesitant in his own ears.

“Just have the courtesy to kill me before you leave,” Maul snapped. 

He wasn’t supposed to care. Neither of them were supposed to care, because the Dark made sure that they _ couldn’t _ care… but Obi-Wan still felt compelled to do something—or _ say _ something, at least.

Obi-Wan set down the tool he was holding. “I wouldn’t leave without a good reason. It would make things so boring.” He rose to his knees and moved close enough to take his hand. “And you know how I hate to be bored.”

Maul watched him and said nothing. He still looked uncertain.

“It probably isn’t much in the way of reassurance, but I suppose it needs saying: you _ have _ me, all of me, and you only have to do one thing.” Obi-Wan suddenly grabbed Maul’s chin in his other hand and yanked him in until their lips were almost touching. “Keep my attention,” he growled.

He had no doubt that Maul could manage it.

“I don’t _ need _you,” Maul protested. “I—”

But rather than finish his objection, he exhaled in frustration, pulled Obi-Wan up into his lap, and kissed him hungrily.

“You do need me,” Obi-Wan said, feeling a little smug. “It’s alright: I need you too.”

He could barely remember being anything else. He could barely remember feeling anything other than this. Whatever this was, it had come a long way from how it began: a way to fill the emptiness inside of him, a way to not be alone in the Dark…

Obi-Wan could no longer remember what it was like to be alone.

And, for one terrifying second, he could imagine a way out of the Dark—a way out for both of them.

Impossible. Attachments didn’t work that way. He didn’t have the capacity to feel what he would have to feel in order to—

Didn’t he?

The Dark made things simple, he reminded himself. Why would anyone choose otherwise?

Obi-Wan still shivered.

“Come along,” he said, standing up and putting those treacherous thoughts off for another day. “It’s time we paid Ahsoka a visit.”


	4. Epilogue

Her job now, ironically, was to be noticed, Ahsoka thought to herself. Not _ too _ much, of course, but enough that it would look like she was trying to hide and failing.

She had spent a few weeks here on this waystation, one that no one bothered to name. It was little more than a refueling station, a place where no one stayed long enough to notice each other. People only stayed permanently if they had no way to leave.

They would catch up with her eventually: Obi-Wan had managed to find Kamino even though it had been erased from the Jedi Archives, and Maul had managed to find Obi-Wan in the middle of nowhere on Tatooine—a planet that had a lot of _ ‘nowhere’ _ to hide in.

But she had a ship and it was fueled. She could make a hasty exit when she needed to, and keep their attention on her instead of looking for Luke and Leia.

However, the ship ended up being the thing that trapped her. She returned at the end of the day to find it locked as usual—there were too many thieves to do anything else—and foolishly let her guard down.

They were already inside, waiting for her: something emitted a sharp hiss and, before she could react, she was hit with a chemical-smelling mist that quickly solidified into the webbing of a synthetic net, which pinned her arms to her side and her legs to one another, sending her crashing to the ground.

A Stokhli spray stick, she suspected, or something like it. Rare weapons, but non-lethal. Bounty hunters weren’t unheard of here. It wasn’t a lightsaber, which was a good sign.

This was only a minor inconvenience, she reminded herself. She wasn’t wearing her sabers but they were nearby; all she had to do was float one over using the Force, ignite it, and then cut herself free.

She reached out with the Force and both lightsabers began to move—but away from her rather than towards her.

The air around her grew bitterly cold, carrying the faint smell of death along with it.

She craned her neck to look, trying not to shiver as she did so.

Obi-Wan and Maul stood over her.

“Hello, Ahsoka,” the former said with a smile that was almost friendly. “It’s good to have you back.”

“Let me go,” she said, clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering. It was so cold… 

“Of course not,” Obi-Wan said cheerfully. “You’re the only one that can help us find Luke and Leia.” He knelt down beside her. “You hid them very well… I’m so proud of you, Ahsoka.”

In spite of herself, in spite of the shadows of the Dark Side all around them, in spite of her fear, in spite of the horrible color of Obi-Wan’s eyes, a small and shameful part of her glowed at the sound of his praise. All she had wanted, years ago when she was a Padawan, was the approval of the Order and Jedi Masters like him.

She heard Anakin’s voice in her head again: _ If you had been a better Jedi, Ahsoka, they wouldn’t have distrusted you. _

_ If you had stayed in the Order, Anakin and Obi-Wan wouldn’t have fallen. _

_ Always remember, Ahsoka: this is all your fault. _

No: she couldn’t indulge in that guilt right now.

“I don’t care if you’re proud of me,” she lied. “I won’t let you get your hands on them.”

Maul snorted with amusement; he was the one holding the spray stick, she noticed. “You will eventually.”

“Do your worst,” she spat. “I would rather die.”

Maul laughed again. 

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan chided her gently, “please don’t say things like that. Of course we aren’t going to hurt you.” His smile was strangely warm in the middle of all this cold.

If she didn’t look him in the eyes, she could almost fool herself into thinking that he was his old self.

“In fact,” he continued, “we’re going to help you.”

A feeling of dread bloomed in her chest. “Help me how?”

“You never finished your training,” he said. “We want to help you complete it.”

“No.” She was frozen; her lungs felt like ice. “Please no…”

“And by that point,” Obi-Wan went on, still looking so horribly kind, “you’ll be ready to tell us where the twins are. Then we'll all be together.” He smiled a little wider, a tiny spark of mania in his eyes. “One big happy family.”

Ahsoka wanted to scream, but the cold wouldn’t let her. She could only shiver in silence, trapped in the dark where no light or warmth would ever go, with no possible means of escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course there will be a sequel. I wouldn't leave you with a cliffhanger like that.


End file.
